Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
DELANEY
“Alright, everyone. Before we leave, I want to tell you what a great game that was. I know that some of you are heading off for international tournaments, but I want us to carry this momentum into the break. I wish you all the best of luck, and for those who will be staying in Toronto, we’ll be having a few light practices that are optional, but I strongly encourage you to attend. ”
“Yes, Coach,” everyone says in unison.
I smile at the group and head to the back of the bus. Bailey and Nadia stay up front, but I like the back. With most of the women congregated to the front, sitting back there gives me more room to spread out and watch film on the ride home.
I hate that the professional league has a break so soon after the season starts.
Leading the league at 3-0, I don’t want our momentum to come to a grinding halt.
It’s not like we didn’t have breaks at the collegiate level, but they at least came at a time when the break was needed to give bodies a rest.
“Before we get going, can I say something?” Lydia pops up from her seat halfway back.
“Floor is yours.”
I brush past her and take my seat, watching as she turns her back to me.
“Thanks. I know this isn’t an official team event, but I’m going to be working with one of the local shelters to host puppy yoga this weekend. If anyone is interested, we’d love to have you. The more people that come, the better chance we have at getting these puppies adopted.”
A few people raise their hands, letting her know they’ll be going.
I fight the groan. Why does Lydia Bishop have to be the most perfect woman? Not only is she one of the best players on the team, she’s now helping puppies get adopted?
If this woman has a flaw, I can’t find it.
Happy chatter filters back as I pull out my tablet to start studying game film for our first opponent after the break.
Playing New York, with at least five of their women heading to Europe for the upcoming tournament, I’m hoping we’ll be able to take advantage of their jet lag to catch them off guard when we head down to play them.
We only have three of our players gone, thankfully.
“Do you ever take a break?”
Lydia pops up over the seat in front of me, staring at the tablet in my hand.
The cabin lights are off, with only a few overhead lights shining down. It’s gotten quieter, with people no doubt popping in headphones for the drive home. Even though it was an afternoon game, by the time we pulled out of the rink, darkness settled over the city.
“There will be a time for breaks later.”
I pause the footage of New York’s game from earlier this week. Even though they won, I can still glean a lot from how they played.
Like seeing how they became less aggressive as the game went on, even though they were only up by two goals.
“Still the same old Delaney.”
Stepping into the aisle, Lydia takes the seat across the aisle from me and crosses one leg over the other. My eyes move on their own, taking in the patterned tights and long black sweater dress she’s wearing. She looks effortlessly sexy.
“I figure I might as well get it in now since the team is sending me down to Florida to do some scouting.”
“Really?” She gives me a questioning look. “Don’t they have actual scouts to do that?”
“Not this time. Since we’re on break, and the team scouts are headed to Europe, they’re sending me. She’s a college player with a lot of potential.”
Lydia drops her elbow onto the armrest and rests her chin in her palm. “I guess we’re both going down there then.”
“What are you doing down there?”
“I’ve got a photoshoot with one of my new sponsors,” she tells me.
I lock my tablet and set it on the seat next to me. There’s no harm in talking to one of my players, right? “What company?”
“Island Siren. It’s a new sustainable swimsuit company bought by a woman billionaire out in Seattle. I’m really excited for it.”
“That sounds exciting,” I tell her.
What I don’t tell her is that I can easily imagine her in said swimsuits. Or not in the swimsuits.
Why does this woman make it so hard to be around her?
“It’s my first big sponsorship, so I hope they like me.” The confession slips from her before she can take it back.
“Who wouldn’t like you?” I blurt out. “You’re easy to like.”
Talking to my player? Yes, that’s okay. Telling her that? Probably not okay.
Lydia gives me a coy smile. “Does that mean you like me?”
“You’re my player. Of course I like you. I like all my players,” I backtrack. This conversation is heading to the danger zone. And fast.
“I do too,” Lydia agrees. “I also like all my coaches.”
“Even when they point out things you’re doing wrong?”
That cuts the flirty tension between the two of us when shock colors her face.
“What am I doing wrong?” she asks, ignoring where our conversation was going.
“You want to know?”
“Yes. If I need to improve my game, I want to know.”
I laugh. “And you’re telling me to take a break?”
“As you said, I’m your player. Coach me.”
“Fine.” I grab the tablet and power it on. “Late in the game, especially close ones, your stickhandling starts to get a bit…”—I try to find the right word, one that won’t offend her—“lax.”
“Lax? Let me see.”
I tap on the video of her playing our game against Montreal and queue it up for her.
“You skate hard, Lydia. It’s not in every game that—”
“Damn it,” she interrupts, ignoring me. “I thought I was getting better at that.”
I study her as her eyes flit over the small screen that casts her features in a dim glow. Even though it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her, she is still one of the most expressive people I’ve ever met.
And based on her reaction now? She’s annoyed with herself.
“Guess I’ll be at the rink tomorrow working on stickhandling. I can’t be slowing down when the team needs me.”
I laugh and take the tablet away from her, much to her dismay. “I’m not telling you this so you can get to the rink tomorrow to fix it. Just something to be aware of.”
Lydia leans back in the seat, crossing her arms. “I did tell you to coach me.”
“It is why they hired me.”
“I guess I’m going to have to work harder. I don’t want to let my coach down. I mean, none of us do.”
I bury my own reaction by busying myself with tucking the tablet away in my bag. I don’t miss the note of pride in her voice. Or the way it does things to my insides. Things that should definitely not be happening because of who she is.
Lydia was my past. Is my past. We have no future together.
I’m her coach. She’s my player. There is no realm in which this would work.
“I’m assuming you’ll be at the rink tomorrow?” Lydia asks, drawing my attention back to her.
“Where else would I be?” I smile at her.
“Good. Then that means you can help me with my skills. Maybe a little one-on-one?” She stands, ready to go back to her seat.
I know what she means, but that damn flirty tone is back. The implication of her words sends waves of heat through me.
Stop it!
I cannot be thinking about her like this. I’m back in the danger zone. The area where things are gray and Lydia isn’t my player and I’m not her coach.
Where I want things to happen that shouldn’t be happening.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” With a wink, she’s gone, giving me back what little willpower I have left around her. I need to find it, build up a resistance to her, because I cannot keep having these feelings for her.
It’s not like I can talk to Bailey or Nadia about it. Or my mom. I just need to find the strength to build my walls up to her to be able to resist her.
I can do it, right?